The Earth and all her jubilee and might,
and self-inflicted hardship overcome,
and doctrine forged to settle wrong and right
no more can tell her doctors from the Sun-
with science and scripture stirred and made the same,
and idols cast from dirt and lust and gold,
and sunlight ploughed and passed a clever name,
and beauty culled and bought and used and sold,
thus, sun and beauty bound and in a mew,
as each one treads your lashes and your hair,
but glossy doctrines cast and mould and skew;
and you can't tell the sunlight from the glare-
and don the golden makeup and disguise,
as lashes keep the sunlight from your eyes.
And he took sadness in his hands,
cast it into the night sky.
Things became better.
I Love You
I can't really write..
Like, right now that is..
So I think I'll just sit here
And listen to the music drowning
Out the hum of this here machine,
And drink me some tea.
Which is OK, 'cause I've got your picture here beside me.
I've got stuff to do-
Don't really want to do any of it..
I'd like to write,
But I can't really right now..
But that's alright, 'cause I've got your picture.
I had this dream last night,
About a cathedral,
But I was too scared to go on the roof..
If I went on the roof I was going to jump, you see..
But that scared me.. the roof..
It was only a dream,
But I still didn't tell you about that part earlier..
About the jumping..
I thought it might scare you.
I'm out of tea it seems- damn hobbits.
But I've still got your picture..
And that's alright.
The Book of Whoosh
retinally swooshing a consistently different electrapicture
to my mind
whenever I or my wake-up clock want them to.
simulating outdoor conditions on a 2D plane
on my bedroom wall.
under the control of nobody in particular,
looking for magic answers magic love.
Tears on a Pier
Tears on a Pier
Her legs hang off the edge of the pier
An Inch above the icy water
Each swell wets her angled feet
As she stares into the sun.
Hoping it will show her everything
But secretly wishing it would blind her
I dont know her but I sit by her side
And stare like her and hope to see
What it is she is trying to see
I turn to her and yet she stares
With a salty residue on her cheeks
And a scrunched up chin and trembling lip
Eventually she turns to me
And sees unwanted sympathy
She sees no understanding in my eyes
And I accept that she is right
There are no more tears from exhausted minds
Her body will not let her cry.
I start to speak and she answers
Her voice forced out through her filtered pain
Our conversation lasts for hours
The tide changes and her feet are dry again
The sun begins to set and the moon becomes our friend
I tell her that I might help her, that she is nowhere near the end.
My eyes replace the sun.
No Train For YesterdayI spend two & a half smiles on strangers,
drink a bottle of casual words
& head down a silent street, accompanied
by muted endeavors of faceless clowns.
It's a tired, malnourished day, strained
over frail dusty bones of hours
& as I run my hand along a minute,
it feels like leather, worn from wear.
You still arise in idle thoughts:
the way you stopped to watch me at
an ambiguous train station up north.
You were the streetlight that blinked on
& off in futile attempt to murder wind
while snow raced horizontal lines
& hurried past large metal doors.
You seemed to revel in movement,
smoothed air with your skin
as I headed on. Gave shelter
to a misplaced thought & lost another
in muddy puddles behind my temples,
aching now, condensed for spare.
The smell of old liquor & masculinity
still lingers in my nostrils' memory.
You asked for clarity in all I said
out of spite & I couldn't find the words.
Shreds of sentence fragments tasted bitter
& I washed them down with another
Prompt 14: The Beginning! Just one day left to send us your slice of weirdness! I'm working on my desperate and pathetically last-minute entry--how about you?
Just under one week left to get those entries in! We've only had two so far, so all you people who favourited and shared and rhapsodized about how goddamn awesome it was we were back, get your arses into gear!
Yes, it's us again. We reincarnate more often than Kenny.
This time is going to be different, though. And you can trust me on that, because it's not me who'll be ensuring it. futilitarian, a long-time contributor and judge for transliterations and someone whom I'm sure you all know if only by reputation, is stepping into the breach and making sure this dead horse keeps getting whipped. The one major change you should be aware of is that prompts will now go up on the 15th of each month and end on the 10th. Of course, this ending date is purely arbitrary and only influences who gets into the news feature; you can continue
Why I want you to FAV
Why I want you to +fav this work.
If you +fav this work, your effort will give me an immense sense of well being.
I will feel that a part of my heart has been forever devoted to this piece. For each and every soul that believes, \"this deserves a +fav\" I will grow ever happier. My view will become ever more optimistic and hope for the future will be installed within me.
My outlook on life will be like that of a sun coming out from behind a cloud, getting brighter and warmer with every second elapsed. I will forget my worries, my bad memories, my aches and pains, I will drop my chains. For each and every +fav will free me from an unwanted displeasure. Turning me into a new and better person.
My favourite saviours shall lighten my burden and relieve me from stress, they will give life reason and effort purpose. The satisfaction of a job well done becoming proven fact
The rain is stopping my friends, the clouds are dispersing. The thunder is now only a faint rumble and lightning is no mo